


A Full Tavern

by a_desiredconflict



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Battle, Best Friends, Crushes, Drunkenness, Embarrassment, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Jealousy, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Missing Years, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Pining, Purple Hawke (Dragon Age), Rating May Change, Rogue Hawke (Dragon Age), Sarcasm, The Hanged Man (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras is a Good Friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26041714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_desiredconflict/pseuds/a_desiredconflict
Summary: Friends gathered for drinks at their favorite drinking hole......Think of this kind of like Seinfeld; there's no overall plot outside of the DA2 storyline. Just coherent, timeline-connected blurbs about friends.No established relationship, but lots of flirting with Fenris and Anders.....rating change action will happen with both characters.03/04/21 On hiatus for a bit
Relationships: Anders/Female Hawke, Fenris/Female Hawke
Comments: 50
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sentences in Italic are the character's thoughts.

Verose Hawke had been stuck inside that hovel for far too long today, just her and Gamlen. Her mother and sister had been out all day with errands and other such things, so she had the honor of spending time with her dear, old Uncle Gamlen. Hawke had finally decided she'd spent enough time listening to him grumble. Verose was making her way to The Hanged Man for a pint.

The Sun hung low enough in the sky that the buildings around the area blocked the light covering the street in shadow. Hawke kept her hands ready to grab her daggers because walking through Lowtown was especially treacherous in any level of darkness. It was fortunate that the walk to The Hanged Man was relatively short from where she lived.

For the year she and her family had been in Kirkwall, this walk had become very familiar to her. Most of her contacts met at this bar, and her favorite dwarf kept a room there.

_I hope Varric is in the mood to get drunk._

She laughed at her joke about her business partner as she opened the door to The Hanged Man.

The smell of cheap ale, sweat, blood, and vomit crept into her nose as she sauntered over to the bar to get herself a mug of that cheap ale. The bartender was already setting it down before she managed to lean against the wood. Quick service was one of the many benefits of acting like you own everything. “Hawke,” she heard her name called somewhere from slightly behind her. Verose turned to see her partner, Varric Tethras, the strawberry-blonde, storytelling dwarf with the manliest chest hair amount. “Varric,” she yelled with joy as she picked up her pint and made her way to his table near the fire.

She landed heavily in her chair as she told him, “I’m so glad you’re here. I was worried that you might be at a merchant’s guild meeting.” She ended the sentence by raising her brow and a corner of her mouth, knowing what she did about her friend.

“Andraste herself would have to command me to go to one of those,” he declared with a look of distaste, “Bartrand can have fun with that.”

“How is your sweet brother?” Verose asked with more smirking.

Bartrand was a bastard with good business sense who happened to be in charge of their future venture but was a bastard nonetheless. Varric had all the charm and people skills that his brother lacked.

“He’s all sunshine and rainbows, of course, and still scrambling to fund the expedition into the deep roads,” Varric said as he lifted his mug to his lips.

She drank as he did and then said, “Lucky, he has you then, and you have me.”

He raised his glass and said, “Cheers to that, V.”

They clinked their glasses together, gulped down what was left, and in an almost synchronized action, motioned to a serving girl for two more.

* * *

Verose and Varric chatted over their pints for the better part of an hour when Merrill and Isabela walked into The Hanged Man.

“Oh, my ideal threesome partners are here,” the dark-skinned beauty with cleavage and legs for miles cooed at them as she pulled out a chair for herself. “Merrill isn’t invited to that gathering, though,” she stated as she looked over at the dark-haired, elven mage pulling out the last chair to sit.

“Oh, why not?” She asked, sounding disappointed, “I like gatherings, especially with friends.”

That caused a chorus of laughter that had Merrill’s Dalish elf tattoos on her face wrinkled in confusion and asked the table what dirty thing she missed again.

At the end of their laughter and assuring Merrill that it was okay not to understand all of the dirty things Isabela says, they began a game of Wicked Grace. Verose always bet low and folded out of most hands since she was still trying to save up the fifty sovereigns to buy into the expedition. With her bowing out most of the time, it allowed Isabela to only worry about beating Varric. Merrill was too sweet and easy to read, so she was terrible at cards but was always invited. After Merrill lost several hands, she quit and just watched the last hand with Verose.

“Are you nervous, Rivaini,” Varric asked Isabela with his eyes just peeking out at her over his cards.

“I’m never nervous about Wicked Grace, Varric,” she told him as she threw another sovereign onto the pile already there. “See that, dwarf?” she folded her arms under her bosom, causing them to be plumper, “It’s called confidence.”

Varric saw that and whispered almost inaudibly, “You have plenty of that,” and laid his cards face down on the table admitting defeat.

“Yes!” She pumped her fist in the air and motioned the servant girl over, “Three jiggers of whiskey,” she told the girl. “I’m buying,” she exclaimed.

“Thanks, Isabela,” Verose clasped her shoulder and then said, “or should we thank Varric since it’s mostly his money.”

Merrill could laugh at this one, but Varric pretended to be upset, but Verose saw happiness in the way his eyes wrinkled.

* * *

Within the next five minutes, they needed to move to a larger table to make room for the arrival of Anders, Bethany, and the Mabari dog named Vyne. Anders and Bethany were two more apostates in their merry band of misfits. Bethany was also Verose’s sister. Vyne took to sleeping under the table near the end, and Anders sat next to Verose.

“You both just finished at the clinic?” she asked Anders as he smiled his charming smile at her. Verose considered Anders's lips to be beautifully shaped and the prettiest shade of light pink. He had broad shoulders under the feathers that were on his robes. More of his neck-length blonde hair had come loose from the knot he kept it in and hung around his stubbly face. The stubble helped to further accentuated his strong jaw.

_Damn, he is handsome but far too intense and strange._

“Yes,” he sighed out, “thank the Maker for your sister, though, because I couldn’t have helped that many refugees all by myself in one day.

“And I learned a lot of new techniques for healing various ailments,” Bethany piped in from Verose’s left shoulder with a water jug in her left and a new pint in her right. Anders took his water, and she took her ale. They both thanked Bethany for their drinks. Bethany sat at the end near Vyne and started reading some parchment she had tucked under her arm.

“So, you really can’t get drunk,” Isabela posed the question to Anders, leaning closer towards him from across the table.

“Yeah,” he answered and further explained, “Justice doesn’t let me anymore.”

Verose joined in with a question, “Like, you drink, and nothing happens, or he yells at you in your head kind of thing?” Anders had willingly taken a spirit of Justice into his body when he was with the Grey Wardens.

“Justice is a fuddy-duddy,” Merrill observed.

“When is Justice fun?” he asked.

Merrill responded, “Maybe if it ever involved dirty things.” She was looking at Isabela for her joke's approval, and she received it with a wide grin. Varric and Verose chuckled while both Anders and Bethany sighed.

* * *

More drinks came and went as Varric and Anders told ridiculous stories. Merrill had moved to sit across from Bethany, and they were discussing whatever it was she was reading earlier. Verose was watching them, a bit unfocused now through all the ale.

“The damn tree tried to stomp on us!” she heard Anders's voice yell.

“You’re shitting me?” Varric yelled back while laughing with Isabela.

“I swear,” he smiled wildly, “we had to fight walking trees and darkspawn at the same time.

“Are we sure Anders hasn’t been drinking” Verose pondered out loud? She turned in her seat to smile at him and place a hand on his back. “You sure are interesting, Anders” Anders stared a little too intently into Verose’s eyes, making her a little uncomfortable. “Not as interesting as you, Hawke,” he whispered. Verose lifted her hand off his back.

_Shit, I flirted too hard in my drunkenness. Do something._

She landed her hand back down onto his back in a friendly slap then said enthusiastically, “Yes, the things I do for money is crazy interesting.” She turned away from him, “Varric, tell the one about the Bone Pit!” Varric began the story of killing a dragon.

* * *

Varric finished the story with how Verose had doubled the Bone Pit workers' pay, garnering chuckle from the table. It was dark outside, so Isabela and Bethany took it upon themselves to walk Merrill back to the alienage with Vyne as the designated muscle. Everyone wished them goodbye as Isabela reminded them that she lived there so she would be back. Bethany said that she was going to turn in for the night, however.

“You know how Mother gets, Verose,” Bethany said, and Verose nodded in acknowledgment of their mother’s fears for Bethany’s safety.

As the ladies and Verose’s dog walked out the door, Aveline Vallen and Fenris walked in. Aveline was a tall, intimidating, red-haired woman in and out of her guardsman armor. Tonight, she wasn’t wearing that armor but still had her sword belt on her waist. Walking next to her in his usual spiky, dark and threatening armor was Fenris. The ex-slave elf was around Verose’s height and his elf ears poked out from under his short white hair. The thin lyrium tattoos running from his very full bottom lip down his neck and under his armor only made his slender form more appealing to the eye.

_Maker, he’s a sexy and dangerous mystery._

“Should have known all of you degenerates would be here,” Aveline greeted them and broke Verose away from her train of thought.

“Isabela isn’t here,” Varric told her pointedly.

“She’ll be back soon enough,” Verose said with a smile as she moved to stand up from the table. “I’ll get you two an ale while I get mine, and there’s an empty seat next to Varric and me.”

“I got it, Hawke. Just sit down”, Varric interrupted her motion with his insistence.

Fenris sat down next to Verose and gave her a short nod as a greeting.

_That worked well. I’m separating the two that would kill each other if it wasn’t for my existence._

“Fen,’ Verose began and turned to Fenris, “what were you two upstanding citizens doing out in the dark?” She made sure to flash her mischievous grin at Aveline as well. Aveline just sighed and took the mug from the serving girl who just arrived.

“The usual, Hawke,” he answered Verose with the corners of his mouth turned up only a little, “robbing and causing chaos.”

Verose threw her head back with cackling laughter at the thought of Aveline committing any crime. Fenris picked up the mug and sipped from it as Aveline protested what he said.

Anders interrupted her protests, “Why does he get a nickname?”

Varric had sat back down and answered, “You have one, Blondie.”

“Not from you, from her,” he explained, “Hawke called him Fen.”

Verose raised an eyebrow at Anders and said, “If I shorten your name like I did Fenris, then you’d be And,” she giggled at that. “AND, that sounds stupid.” More drunk giggling ensued with smiles from everyone but Anders.

* * *

They had continued drinking and talking about Aveline and Fenris's training from earlier in the day when Isabela returned. Aveline had only finished one drink, and Isabela insisted that she have another with her.

_I don’t know how she manages that. I can’t talk Aveline into having fun._

Verose Hawke, Aveline Vallen, Varric Tethras, Fenris, Isabela, and Anders sat in The Hanged Man bar drinking heavily, except for Anders and Aveline.

_Fuddy-duddies_


	2. Chapter 2

“FUDDY-DUDDIES! Raining on my,” Verose was interrupted by her hiccup, “good time.”

Verose Hawke couldn’t hold her alcohol like most of her companions, and she'd had far too many. She’d removed the back straps that held her daggers and abandoned them on the table. She also ditched the leather vest on top of her white tunic and didn’t seem to care the tunic was revealing more skin than she’d be comfortable with sober.

Aveline was unsuccessfully trying to either fix her clothes or convince her to do it. Isabela was watching and laughing at the whole situation. Varric was securing her blades while talking to the right people to ensure no one took this opportunity for revenge against the well-known mercenary. Anders hadn’t moved from his seat next to her and was smiling affectionately at Verose. Fenris sat across from her with his elbows on the table and hands clasped together. He had no discernable expression on his mouth, but his eyes stayed on Hawke. A stare of surprise, one would assume.

“Aveline,” Hawke continued slovenly, “I need you to relax and drink with me!” She attempted to grab one of Avenline’s hands and missed it by a yard.

“What you need, Hawke, is to get into bed!” Aveline scolded her loudly.

“Could I get into someone else’s bed?” Hawke damn near shouted the question causing a couple of heads to turn.

Varric and Aveline gave a death stare to each face that turned her way. Varric hadn’t considered the idea of keeping people from attempting that kind of advance. Hawke was a beautiful woman, and as far as all her companions knew, she’d had no dalliances since she’d been in Kirkwall. Hawke was propositioned several times over but always denied the suitor. Now was most definitely not the time for offers from anyone. Hawke didn’t need anyone to proposition her, though, because she was already working on doing it herself. She reached her hands across the table to hold Fenris’s fists.

“Your bed is probably comfortable, Fen.” She slurred as she leaned across the table more.

Fenris’s eyes expanded as he saw just how much of her skin was exposed by the loose tunic, but he told her calmly, “You are very drunk, Hawke.”

Hawke stared at him, motionless for a few seconds before suddenly removing her hands and leaning back again. “The dead body smell might not agree with me right now; you're right.” She turned toward Anders now and put her left hand on his cheek. “How about your bedroll, Anders? I've seen the way you look at me.”

He gave her a soft smile before putting his hand on hers. “Tonight is not the night for that, Verose.” Then he picked her hand up and placed it down onto her own leg.

“By the void?!” Hawke cursed loudly. “Can I not get some action in the Free Marches?!”

“You can get into my bed, V.” Varric spoke from behind her.

He’d been quietly whispering to Aveline while Hawke made an ass of herself. He let Aveline know that he was going to get their drunk friend into bed. Varric’s room was just up the tavern stairs, and they knew there was no way she could walk home in this state. Varric hadn’t taken the time to explain the plan to the other three at the table. Isabela looked at him with disapproval, and the other two looked like they were about to stab him. Varric could swear he saw twinges of blue on their skin.

“Go ahead, and I’ll meet you there, Hawke,” he whispered into her ear.

Verose beamed at the table and told the two men, “Varric knows how to accept a generous offer.” Then she stood up and stumbled the whole way up the stairs and out of sight.

“Varric!” Isabela shouted.

“What?! I’m going to make sure she sleeps it off.” Varric said indignantly. “Who do you think I am? And you two calm down.” He looked between the two men.

You could see the three of them visibly sigh out relief before Isabela started laughing.

Through her laughter, Isabela said, “We know who Hawke is pining after now, and it’s both of you! I owe you a sovereign, Varric.”

He winked at her before waving a hand goodbye to the table and followed Hawke's route. Varric had to make sure she passed out in the right bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Hawke tripped over herself while removing her pants and boots. She fell onto the bed, stretched, and went straight into a drunken sleep. She dreamed of her life in Lothering. Relived the moments running away from darkspawn, losing Carver. She wouldn’t remember the dreams this morning, thanks to the copious amount of alcohol. She wouldn’t clearly remember herself coming onto Anders and Fenris. Her friends would make sure to remind her.

* * *

The headache and dry mouth were what started waking her up first. As she began to shift around, attempting to ignore those things, she felt someone’s weight in the bed beside her. She sprung her eyes open in shock to see Varric’s back. Varric was in all of his clothing, unlike herself, and he was on top of the sheet. It finally occurred to her that she wasn’t at home.

_Oh, Maker, what did I do?!_

“Don’t freak out, Hawke,” Varric said without turning to face her. He rolled onto his back, eyes still closed, and stretched. He turned his body to put his legs off the side of the bed and sat up. “Your clothes are on the table, and I locked up to your blades. Get the key from me when you’re fully dressed.” He then got up and walked out of the room.

Just as he told her, her pants, boots, and vest were on the table. Hawke dressed at a reasonable pace, trying not to move too fast and upset her head more. She found the washbasin and mirror in the corner and made herself more presentable. The bags under her eyes were darker than usual, the only outward sign of the hangover now that her hair was back up. She must have taken too long in the mirror because Varric knocked on the door and called her name.

“I’m decent now, Varric,” she said before facing the opening door. Varric stepped in and tossed a key toward her. Verose fumbled it between her hands, but it never hit the floor. She opened a chest that sat on the floor next to the washbasin and recovered her daggers, placing them back into the scabbards on her back. Varric pulled Bianca out of the same chest a minute later and held out his hand for the key. She gave it to him, of course, and watched him lock it again before placing his crossbow onto his back.

“Well, Hawke,” he rolled his head around, stretching his neck before he continued, “let’s go inform your mother and sister that you’re not dead.”

“Shit, can you kill me instead?” Verose clasped her hands together in prayer while looking down at Varric.

“Nope, you owe me money.” Varric began walking away after he said that.

Verose cursed in her head a couple more times before catching up to him.


	4. Chapter 4

Jokes at her expense followed that drunken night. Verose had survived the guilt laid on her by her mother and sister, as well. The embarrassment and shame from that night seemed like a fond memory since the Deeproads trip had been made. The excursion hadn’t gone as planned, of course.

Hawke and Varric had been betrayed by his asshole brother, leaving them to die, which obviously didn’t happen. Still, it had taken them an extra week and more fighting than necessary to get out. On top of that, the return home greeted Hawke with her own sibling trouble.

The Templars had found Bethany, and she was being taken to The Circle. If it had been anyone else’s sibling, they would have been made Tranquil for being an apostate, and Verose would be in prison. She had garnered a good reputation with Knight-Captain Cullen, and he had spoken on Bethany’s behalf. Verose was also lucky enough to show up as they were taking her and hear from Cullen “how fortunate” she and Bethany were. Verose watched her mother collapse to her knees as Bethany was led out of the door.

_Another sibling has gone, another reason for Mother to resent me. Fortunate that this one isn’t dead._

Verose’s mother didn’t speak to her as much anymore, and that suited her just fine. She was busy with jobs, paperwork, and bribes to the right people to get the Amell estate back. Verose had decided when they first arrived in Kirkwall that she’d get the estate back for her mother, and the resentment towards her wasn’t going to change that goal. Hawke thought of the estate as the latest contract dropped a coin purse into her open hand. She nodded at them and turned away, beginning the walk towards Darktown.

“Why do you keep taking on these jobs, Hawke?” Aveline asked from her left side.

Hawke answered without looking over at her, “For more money.”

“You could take on BETTER jobs. You could work for the city, or hell, be a guard! With what money you have now, you could open a shop.” Aveline scoffed audibly. “And we wouldn’t be walking all over the damn Free Marches.

Hawke laughed before turning to face her. “Walking keeps that body rocking, Aveline.” She ended the statement with a wildly exaggerated wink at her.

Aveline sighed and shook her head in response to Hawke’s cheesiness. Verose smiled broadly, turned to face the path again, and then answered her question.

“Those kinds of jobs put me in the limelight of people I don’t want attention from. Also, could you really see ME as a guard?”

Hawke heard her sigh, again, and then the trip to Lowtown was made without any more conversation.

As they rounded a corner, Hawke could see Varric’s “haggling smile” from dozens of feet away. Standing at Varric’s side was Fenris, arms folded and uninterested in whatever was being haggled over. He was paying attention to their surroundings instead. As they got closer to the pair, Fenris nodded at them and then went back to sweeping the area without moving his head again. Aveline stopped a few feet away from the table and began doing the same as Fenris. Hawke closed the distance, however, stood next to him and flashed him her best smile. Fenris let a small smile cross his face, and Hawke saw his shoulders relax a smidge.

_I like that he relaxes around me more than he used to….or he sees that Aveline took over security._

The three of them were all quiet until Varric finally finished his business and turned around to notice their arrival. Varric put a few glass bottles in the leather pouches of his belt before he acknowledged them.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today. Hawke?” Varric asked.

“Let’s visit Anders, and then we’ll go from there.”

Hawke ignored the disgusted grunt from Fenris and started walking. Fenris and Aveline taking the rear, with Varric on her right side. She saw Varric look back at their two warriors before he asked Hawke another question.

“So, Aveline is your muscle today?”

“And you have Fenris?” Hawke looked back at him with a smile.

“Can we trade? The brooding is bringing me down.”

“Sure,” Verose looked down at Varric, “as long as you can deal with the questions about your choice of work.”

Varric shook his head, “Know what, I can deal with the brooding after all.”

“We’re right here!” Aveline yelled at the two of them.

“We know.” Varric and Hawke said simultaneously before sighing.


	5. Chapter 5

“Be with you in a moment, Hawke,” Anders called out with his back turned to her.

He seemed to be able to sense Hawke’s presence ever since their first meeting, or it was Justice that could. Hawke didn’t care either way. It was a neat and convenient trick. She walked toward the middle of the clinic and stopped several paces away from Anders and the patient he was dealing with. The others were filing in just as Anders was finished and stepped in front of Hawke. He was smiling until the last companion walked in.

“Why is he always with you?”

Hawke didn’t bother to look back at Fenris. She knew who he meant. “Well, if you could swing a big ass sword, then you’d be with me more.” She gave him a crooked smile.

Anders raised an eyebrow, “Fireballs are better than a sword.”

Verose shrugged her shoulders as she dug into her left hip purse. She pulled out a handful of green leaves and held them out to the mage in her open palm.

“I fetched some of those herbs you mentioned wanting.”

Anders bottom lip dropped slightly, and he gingerly picked the greenery out of her hand.

“I mentioned these ages ago. When we first met that Tintop dwarf,” Anders paused, “you remembered that? That’s amazing.”

Hawke shifted her weight back and forth. She just happened to have been up there again and spotted the weeds. They had been too busy with more important matters to get them, and Anders had talked about going back for them. She hadn’t believed it would be a big deal.

“It’s nothing extraordinary, Anders.”

Anders turned away, knelt next to a chest, and opened it. “You listen to what I say and remember it,” he put the herbs inside before looking up at her. His usually tight-knight brows were gone, and instead of a wide-open grin, his lips were softly pressed together with a gentle curve. “That makes you amazing to me.”

Verose’s cheeks grew warm.

_Oh, Maker. Stop flattering me, you sexy revolutionist!_

Hawke looked away from his face and cleared her throat. “Well, you’re welcome.”

Verose thought she heard him chuckle, but the chest shutting sound made it hard to be sure. He stood up and took a step closer to Versose. He was close enough to easily pull her into him for an embrace if he wanted to. This distance wasn’t helping the heat fade from Verose’s face.

His eyes bore into her as he spoke, “Did you come by only to give me a gift?”

“It’s not a gift, really.” Hawke managed to stammer that out before taking a step back and gathering her poise. “I could invite you to The Hanged Man, though.”

“With everyone?” He glared over her shoulder.

“The more, the merrier, right?” Hawke asked, beaming her standard grin.

He looked back to Hawke, “I’ll see you there later.”

“Great!”

Hawke spun on her heel to get back to the others. Aveline was outside the clinic, and Fenris was propped against the door frame, leering in Anders’s direction. Varric had found a spot to set down ink and parchment. He was scribbling furiously.

“Maker, help me! You carry that with you?!”

Varric looked up from his sentence with a shit-eating grin. “I would miss that kind of material if I didn’t.”

“Nothing of that was _material!_ ” Hawke walked past him intending to leave him there if he didn’t get moving.


	6. Chapter 6

Verose and Fenris sat across from each other in The Hanged Man. Fenris sat facing the door as per usual, and Hawke was okay with him taking that seat. She trusted him to recognize a threat as fast as she would. Aveline and Varric had left them there just moments ago to finish errands, and it would be sometime before the others arrived. So, it was just them for now, sitting in silence, staring off into the distance while sipping on their respective drinks. That lasted for ten minutes.

“Ver.”

Hawke turned her attention to Fenris, “What did you say?”

“I was thinking about how you shorten my name, and it occurred to me that I can do the same to yours.” He scratched his cheek with his index finger. “What do you think of it?”

Her eyes were wide with the shock that Fenris, the brooding machine who hated mages and all who wanted to free mages, had given her a nickname.

“I love it!” She let loose one loud ha. “It’s going to drive Anders insane.”

“His dislike of other men showing you any affection is evident.”

Hawke leaned forward, “He doesn’t react that way to anyone else that flirts with me or I flirt with, just you.” Hawke brought her mug to her lips, frowned at its empty contents then put it down. She cocked her head to one side while looking at Fenris. “That’s your idea of affection?”

Fenris waved a hand for the barmaid to get them two more. “Yes.” He waited for the barmaid to walk away and then leaned in, “What’s your idea of affection?”

“You’re asking?” He nodded once. “Well, compliments are easy enough.” She pursed her lips in thought. “Combine that with touching, and you’ve got something very effective.”

Fenris didn’t nod or say anything, and he sat perfectly still for a minute. Then he moved with slow purpose to sit next to Verose. She blinked at him several times.

“What are you doing, Fen?”

He reached for her face with a single finger, pushing some hair back behind her ear, and then placed the palm of that hand on her cheek. She could feel her ears reddening and had to swallow, which hurt her suddenly dry throat.

“You’re beautiful, Ver,” Fenris moved in closer to whisper in her ear, “and you deserve every ounce of affection that I can give you.”

Hawke opened her mouth to speak-

“What are you doing standing in the walkway, Blondie?”

Verose pulled her head back and snapped it toward the voice, leaving Fenris’s hand hanging where her cheek was. She saw Varric walking around Anders. The mage’s lips were firmly pressed together, and he was giving Fenris an icy glare. Hawke looked back to Fenris. He’d returned his attention to his drink, but Hawke didn’t miss the smug smile on his lips.

_Oh, I see. He noticed Anders when he walked in and decided to put on a show._

Hawke shook her head and stood up from her seat, “Let me get you and Varric your drinks, Anders.” As she walked away from the table, she heard Varric call Fenris for some help at the stairs.

Fenris met Varric halfway up the stairs. “What is it, Varric?”

“It’s not fair to tease her like that, elf,” Varric said without looking away from where his eyes seemed locked with concern.

Fenris furrowed his brow at the dwarf. “What do you mean? She flirts with everyone; that wouldn’t phase her.”

“Oh really,” Varric jutted his chin in the direction he was looking, “does that look like her normal smile?”

Fenris turned around in the stairwell and looked in that direction. Hawke was at the bar, talking to the tender and another patron. Her smile was half-hearted. Only a small curl at the corners and her eyes didn't have their sparkle. The arm that rested on the counter had a tightly closed fist.

Fenris didn’t look away from her face, “I disappointed her?”

“Yes, you did,” Varric walked down a few steps before turning around, “and probably put Anders in the lead.”


	7. Chapter 7

Verose had spent three years working to recover her mother’s childhood home in Hightown. Now, it was down to one week. One week until her meeting with the Viscount. So, she was killing time in the usual way, walking all over the Free Marches with her friends for odd jobs.

Speaking of friends, she’d been leaving two behind more often. She hadn’t avoided the two per se, but she made it a point to try not to need them for any jobs. Their jealousy of each other and her affection for both of them had become too distracting. Today though, Fenris was with her as well as Aveline and Merrill. Hawke didn’t bring Anders along to the caverns of Sundermount.

_It probably would have been smart to have Anders here._

The spider biting her thigh made her think that. Verose brought both blades down into its head, causing the fangs to dig a pinch deeper. She yanked her blades back out. The spider made a screaming noise, involuntarily jerked onto its back, writhed, and then curled its legs in death. The bitten leg gave out, and she fell onto her knee. She looked up from the dirt to see spiders gathered around Aveline and Fenris. That was the same group she evaded so that she could get bitten by one lone asshole in the shadows.

She spotted Merrill on the other side of the cave. She was covered in stone and waving her staff around, a green sort of smoke around it. Hawke knew Merrill mostly dealt with magics revolving around plants, soil, and other earth stuff. Hawke had no idea what she was doing to help the warriors, but it had her full attention. Then Hawke spotted another lone asshole, this one coming from Merrill’s blindside.

Hawke tried to stand again only to fall once more, now on her stomach.

“MERRILL!”

Hawke yelled for her as she scrambled back onto a knee. She saw Merrill’s head move side to side. Hawke was still in a darker space of the cave and Merrill couldn't see her. Hawke flipped a dagger over in her hand.

“MOVE FAR LEFT!”

Merrill melted into the dirt, Hawke didn’t see where she came out, but it didn’t matter. Verose threw her knife. It flipped continually through the air and stabbed into one of its eight eyes. This spider made the same shrieking noise, but it didn’t die from a single blade. The fireball that hit it afterwards did the job, though, after a bit more screaming and wiggling. She didn’t see any more movement from the other spiders either. Fenris and Aveline had killed all of them.

Hawke sighed and let herself fall onto her backside. She felt a bit dizzy now. She extended her legs and put her one dagger back into its sheath before leaning back on her hands. Merrill found her first.

“Hawke.” She looked down at the bloody leg. “You’re hurt!”

“No, I’m not,” Hawke said dryly, “I spilled wine on my pants, that’s all.”

Merrill pulled some cloth from one of her waist pouches and knelt to press it against her leg. Then her stomach flipped. She had to bring a hand to her mouth to keep from retching. Then a thought occurred to her.

_Was that one of the venomous ones?_

Verose fought off the urge to chuck her breakfast by the time Aveline and Fenris walked up. She still felt dizzy, evident by the spinning. She couldn’t keep her eyes trained on any of her friends.

“Fenris,” Merrill spoke, “she’s hurt, and I think she’s poisoned.”

“Well, shit,” Verose interjected.

“Shut up, Hawke,” Aveline demanded, followed by the sound of her tearing cloth.

“Move, mage.” She knew that was Fenris’s voice, but she wasn’t sure where he was.

Then her leg jerked when someone tore a hole in her pants. NOW, Verose knew where Fenris was and tried to focus on looking at the wound he was hovering over. Then she didn’t care to focus because she had to shut her eyes through the pain. Fenris had just tied something, VERY TIGHTLY, around her thigh above where she’d was bitten.

“Merrill, do you have anything to help?” She heard Aveline ask.

There was a short silence. “No, Aveline. Anders would have something.”

Hawke laughed through clenched teeth. “Merrill is more of the ‘strangle things with roots’ type of mage.”

“Kaffas!” Fenris spat before he lifted Verose into his arms. She wanted to say several choice words of her own, but Fenris cut her off. “I’m carrying you to the clinic. We have to move quickly, and you can’t run, let alone walk.”

And run he did, Verose had to wrap her arms around his neck. She fell asleep, more like fainted, at some point.


	8. Chapter 8

Hawke felt when someone set her down. Something hard under her.

_A table, maybe?_

She saw the ceiling of Anders’ clinic through her blinking, couldn’t keep her eyes open for long. She heard the mage give orders to someone. Voices overlapping as they said yes or asked questions. Anders did a lot of talking, a lot of ‘get that’ and ‘shut up.’

_Where did Fenris go?_

Then she felt a weight on her wrists and ankles. She panicked. Hawke tried to bow her body and kick. Her neck craning down and back to try and see the people holding her down. Flashes of red and white hair, her thoughts were muddled. She was too weak to get out of their grips, but that didn’t stop her from trying. She stopped when a whisper reached her ear.

“Just try to hold still…this is going to hurt, Ver.”

_Fenris. Is Aveline holding my feet?_

She would have asked, but a bit was put between her teeth without any hesitation from whoever did it. It was put there just in time, though. A searing pain erupted from her thigh. Hawke couldn’t have moved if she wanted to. All of her muscles went rigid, and that included her jaw, teeth digging hard into the bit.

The pain went down to an ache just as quickly as the stench of burnt flesh hit her nose. She spat the bit out over the side of whatever she laid on. The sound of it hitting the ground was the only noise outside of her heavy breathing. She felt a breeze hit the entire length of her injured leg. They let go of her limbs, allowing her to sit up enough to look down.

One pants leg was missing.

“These were my favorite pants. Void, they were my only pants.”

Verose fainted again.

* * *

She couldn’t have slept long because she woke up to the noise of arguing.

_I don’t even have to open my eyes to figure out who it is._

“Where’s Aveline?” Fenris and Anders went silent. Hawke didn’t open her eyes or move, and she heard Aveline respond from not too far away. “Could you punch those two for me?”

Aveline huffed out an amused noise. “They both saved your life. Is that how you want to repay them?”

Hawke groaned out a no. She opened her eyes and now saw the ceiling clearly.

_Oh, joy. Darktown._

Hawke sat up, and a cacophony of NO’s hit her ears. Anders and Fenris ahead of her, and Aveline to her right.

Hawke furrowed her brows. “Where’s Merrill?”

“She went to find Varric.” Anders stepped forward and knelt in front of her.

“Why?” Hawke’s eyebrows lifted again but well above their natural resting place. “Am I dying…still?

“No, Anders took care of you,” Aveline piped in, “Merrill is getting Varric so he can you bring you new pants.”

Hawke looked down at her one naked and bandaged leg. “Makes sense.” She looked back up and between the two men. “And what were you two bickering about?”

“Where you would be staying,” Fenris answered quickly. He was standing the farthest away, arms crossed and looking away from everyone.

“What?!” Hawke threw her legs over the side of the table she was still on, planting her feet on the ground. She ignored the protest from Anders. “I’m going home. Why is this even a discussion between anyone?”

Anders sighed, exasperated from her moving and ignoring him, but didn’t further protest it. Instead, he explained the need for her to be somewhere else. “You aren’t going to have full use of that leg for a few days. Someone will need to help you, and we didn’t imagine your mother would be up for it.” Anders paused, and his eyes shifted to over one shoulder for a split second. “I suggested you stay here since I’m the most qualified to help you.”

“And your stake in the argument?” Hawke looked at Aveline.

Aveline folded her arms. “I was here to make sure they didn’t kill each other and waiting for you to wake up to decide for yourself.”

“And did you have a suggestion?” Hawke looked to Fenris.

Anders stood and turned, plopping down next to her on the table. “No, he didn’t. Just was being his usual bestial self.”

Fenris’s face jerked toward Anders. His arms fell from his chest, and he took a step forward. His hand hovering over his sword and mouth open to speak-

“Want to hear my suggestion?”

Everyone’s attention turned toward the door of the clinic.

Varric stood there, clothes in his arms and Merrill next to him. He walked toward Hawke and placed the bundle in her lap before speaking again.

“She can stay with me.”

“Well, that’s settled.” Hawke looked over the pieces of clothing in her lap. “I’ll still need a crutch, though.” She looked at the men. “And some privacy to put these on.”

_Shit. Did anyone get my other dagger and the damn silk gland we went up there for?_


	9. Chapter 9

Aveline walked up the steps to Gamlen’s hovel to talk to Leandra while Hawke remained at the bottom, leaning on her crutch. Hawke’s mother rushed out of the door and down the stairs, much to Verose’s surprise. Leandra gave her eldest daughter a gentle hug around the shoulders while she pestered her about the injury. Hawke strained a smile, nodded, and gave her a one-arm pat on the back in return. It would have been the same even if she’d had both arms free.

_Wonder how long it’ll be before this awkwardness fades?_

“I’m fine, mother,” Verose said as she pulled her arm away from her. “I just can’t take those stairs for a couple of days, and Varric’s room at the tavern is cleaner than Gamlen’s place.” She grinned at her mother. “Crazy to say out loud.”

Leandra’s forehead wrinkled in the middle. “Will you be able to make the meeting with me?”

“Yes, mother. I’ll meet you here the morning of.” Verose nodded toward the wood under her armpit. “I’ll even leave the crutch behind and limp the whole way to Hightown with you if I have to.”

“She shouldn’t need the cane or be limping by that time, Serah Hawke.” Anders tacked onto Hawke’s sentence, stealing the thunder of her snarkiness.

Leandra smiled at him, and then Verose. “That’s good to hear. Then I’ll see you in a few days, dear.”

Aveline escorted her mother back up the stairs and indoors. Once she rejoined the group, they all returned to the short but agonizingly slow trek to The Hanged Man. Varric had gone ahead of them to get Merrill back to the alienage and return to the tavern. Hawke assumed he was already there preparing his room for her stay. Fenris and Anders had tagged along to spite each other. Anders talked enough for everyone on the way to Gamlen’s, and now Fenris finally spoke.

“I’m sorry about holding you down earlier.”

Verose found Fenris on her left side, putting in a lot of effort to walk alongside her slow pace. She shook her head at him with a soft smile.

“It was necessary.” Her grin then grew twice its size as it transformed into her flirty, mischievous standard. “If I hadn’t been poison drunk and in pain, I would have enjoyed the kinkiness of it immensely.”

Fenris didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Ending the sentence with a small smile that reached his eyes. They looked brighter.

_Stunning._

Hawke’s smile fell, leaving her mouth open, and she almost stopped walking. She managed to recover fast enough that the pause would go unnoticed. Hawke did worry that Anders would see the color on her ears from where he walked behind them. She rolled her head around to crack her neck, a reflexive move to gain her full composure again.

_Too damn distracting. Both of them._

* * *

Aveline had more paperwork to do for her upcoming appointment as Guard Captain, so she parted from them when they made it to The Hanged Man’s door. Anders held it open for Verose, following in behind her to cut off Fenris. Anders promptly bumped into her.

Hawke had stopped dead at the sight of her tavern. There were bloodstains on the floor she’d never seen because of the new table arrangement. This new setup would make the walk from the stairs to the door more straightforward, no more need to zig-zag between tables. Hawke sniffed the air. The piss and vomit smell didn’t damn near knock her out. The disgusting smell was almost unnoticeable under a lemon scent.

_It’s cleaner in here?!_

Anders had stepped around her and uttered a single “wow.” Fenris had stepped into the bar, muttering curses against the mage but fell silent with the other two allowing them to hear heavy feet hitting the stairs.

“What are you all gaping at?” Varric yelled out from the bottom of the stairs. “Did you think I was going to let Hawke die from infection instead?

“Just,” Hawke paused for the right words, “wow.” There were no right words.

Varric chuckled and waved a hand to beckon them to him and headed back up the stairs. They followed him to the room he kept and were shocked yet again. Where there had been an enormous wooden table was now a single bed with decent blankets and pillows. They could see it because the curtain the hung up had been tied open to one side. She walked closer to peek further inside. In one corner of the makeshift room was an open and empty chest. In the other corner was a mirror with a washbasin.

_This is better than I’ve lived in years, and it’s in the fucking Hanged Man!_

“Welcome to your suite, Lady Hawke.” Varric gave her a little bow. “You will be a noblewoman in less than a week. Didn’t want you to live in shabby conditions.”

Hawke hobbled on her crutch over to the bed and sat on the end of it. She realized that this meant she’d be right next to Varric. His room was on her right side, and the doors shut, but this meant that if she needed anything, he was close by. Her eyes became a bit moist as a smile reached her cheeks, dimpling them.

_I’m so lucky to have Varric._

Verose turned her head to face her best and only dwarf friend, passing over the other two without regard. “Thank you so much, Varric.”

"Are you sure you aren't a mage?!" Anders yelled down at Varric.

Verose and Varric barrel laughed together.


	10. Chapter 10

Anders walked into The Hanged Man and found only one passed-out patron at a table near the bar. It occurred to him now that he was far too early. There’d be other drunks here if it were a decent hour.

_Shit. She’s probably still sleeping._

He adjusted the bag he had slung over one shoulder. Then he saw Varric, sitting at his usual table with parchment spread out in front of him. Anders liked Varric a lot. He reminded him of The Warden-Commander without the rank…or height…and he was a male. Now, Anders didn’t know why he reminded him of her. Varric looked up from his work once he heard the footsteps get closer. The dwarf rubbed his eyes and smiled.

“Good morning, Blondie.” Anders reached for a chair near his friend. “She’s awake.” His hand stopped an inch from the chair. “V hasn’t been able to sleep well.”

He let his arm fall back down and changed direction toward the stairs, stopping only for a moment to smile back at Varric. “Good morning.”

Anders padded up the stairs and into Varric’s room. He would have knocked, but that wasn’t possible on the closed cloth.

“Can I open the curtain, Verose?” He heard her say mm-hmm.

He pulled the curtain back, stepped around it, and let it fall closed behind him. Verose Hawke was sitting up in the single bed. The sheets of the bed were in disarray, a sure sign that she’d tried to continue sleeping. Her legs were fully covered despite the chaos. Her black hair was just as chaotic as the sheets, and he couldn’t help smiling. He’d never seen her hair stick up in so many different directions, even when fighting. The smile fell from his face when he realized how oversized the tunic was that she was wearing. It was obviously not hers.

_Varric’s._

Verose was looking at him, but her eyes seemed unfocused. The corners of her lips twitched in an attempt to smile. Her mouth was too tightly closed for a smile.

Anders let the jealousy go for a moment. “You’re in pain?”

She nodded her head up and down. Anders moved further into the room, put the bag down near his feet, and sat on the bed, making sure not to sit too close to her injury. Verose didn’t ask questions or wait for him to give her the instruction. She gently moved the sheet off of her leg. Anders hadn’t noticed yesterday due to the urgency and blood, but now, he slowly trailed his sight up the length of her leg. Clean and pale skin from her toes all the way to the hem of the underpants hugging her hip. He could imagine that she was just as pale under that tunic covering her stomach. So different from her arms and face, darkened from the Sun and typically covered in dirt or someone else’s blood. Verose was beautiful all over, no matter what.

_Not now, idiot._

After rolling his mental tongue back into his mouth, he focused on the task at hand. The bite was about halfway up Hawke’s thigh, nearer to the front of her leg. Giant spider fangs are just that, giant, and he’d burned the holes closed. Anders toted plenty of salves in his bag to treat the burn and anything else that might have occurred in the night. He didn’t see any discoloration to indicate the poison had resurfaced. The bandages he’d put on the day before still looked clean, but he had to replace them regardless. He wouldn’t be able to change them from this position, though. Verose would need to lift her leg and move the blanket further out of the way. The dressing could wait, though. He needed to assess and fix her pain first.

“Can you describe the pain to me?”

Hawke screwed up her eyebrows for the minute of thought. “It is burning, and it itches like mad.”

Anders let out the breath he’d held in. “Thank the Maker, that’s all.” Hawke tilted her head at him, and it reminded him of a curious kitten; he couldn’t help but smile at her. “It means that it’s healing, and I have a spell for that.”

Anders hovered his hands just above the bandages, closed his eyes, and dipped into his mana. As he focused, a pale blue light emanated from his hands. It landed on the top of her bandages and slowly followed the cloth around her thigh. It took all of twenty seconds. As soon as he closed his hands, he heard Verose let out a sigh of relief. He had opened his eyes at the tail end of her sigh and watched her shoulders drop significantly.

“Feeling better?”

“Soooo much.” Hawke was finally able to smile at him.

“Good because now, you need to lift your leg so I can change the bandage.”

Hawke nodded at him and lifted her leg high enough that she was able to place her foot flat on the mattress. Anders scooted further back on the bed, giving him an angle that allowed access to underneath her thigh. It also afforded him a new view of her underwear. They were a dark color, almost black, and small. Black hair escaped the edge of them at the end of her thigh.

Anders immediately shifted his eyes back to the bandages. Feeling like a pervert now, he bit the inside of his cheek and started to unwrap the cloth. He threw the old wrap into the bag at his feet and caressed the skin around the burns with a few fingers. Her skin was so soft.

“How’s it look? Am I going to have a great storytelling scar?”

Anders shot his head back up to meet her eyes. Verose had broken him out of the trance. He reached down into the bag and grabbed the new wraps and burn ointment.

“Yes, you’ll scar.” He stretched out the length he’d need across his lap. “The only chance for someone to see it would be in your underwear, though.” Anders used a knife he kept on his hip to cut the piece, set it down, and then opened the ointment jar. “So, Varric would be the only one you can tell.” He scooped a dollop onto two fingers and rubbed it onto the developing scabs.

“What do you mean?” She leaned back on her hands. “Varric has never seen me in my underwear, and I don’t intend for him to see. You are the only one to have received that pleasure so far.” She ended the sentence with what seems to have become her signature wink.

Without looking away from her face, Anders closed the jar and started to wrap her leg back up, “It has been a pleasure.”

Hawke fidgeted, and she looked down at the wrap. Anders chuckled at her embarrassment as he tucked the bandage closed. It amazed him how easily she blushed by him flirting back with her. It was like she didn’t expect someone to return her affection or find her attractive. Anders smiled as he thought about everything he found alluring in Hawke while putting everything back into his bag. He finished tightening the last strap on the bag and sat back up.

“Well, I-“

Lips pressed against his cheek cutting his sentence short. It was quick but left his heart soaring.

“Thank you, Anders.” He heard Hawke say quietly, still close to the cheek her lips had blessed.

He turned his face to hers. Hawke leaned forward on her hands now, a coy look in her eyes and a sweet smile on her mouth. Anders mind was blank of everything but her. His hand moved without thinking, cupping her right cheek and moving in slowly. She blinked at him several times but didn’t move or speak. He kept his eyes on hers as he closed in, pulse picking up speed as he inched towards her sunset-scarlet feature. It seemed to be such a massive distance to traverse. In the final moment, he watched her eyes close and her lips part ever so slightly.

_She wants me to kiss her._

The control he’d managed broke. He cupped the other cheek, crashed his lips to hers, and tilted her face opposite of his to gain easier access to her open mouth. Anders circled the interior of her mouth, making sure his taste buds caught all of her. She tasted like cheap booze and blood. He shuddered at how exquisite the taste was when it came from her. Her calloused palms slid over the back of his hands, her fingers interlocking with his. Ander felt his skin set fire, not like a spell of his own but through magic in her touch. He started to stand, to move closer to her, to put his body against hers. He wanted to feel her heartbeat against his own.

But a bark stopped him and shocked them to detach. Anders and Hawke pulled their hands from the other simultaneously as they looked to the source. Hawke’s Mabari stood next to Anders, looking between the two of them.

“You son of a bitch.” Anders glared at the dog.

Vyne harrumphed at him in his best doggy way, then prodded around to the other side of the bed to jump on it. The dog gave Anders an icy stare as he settled down next to Verose. Anders flashed a rude hand signal to him, to which he bared his teeth. Verose began to laugh, her chuckle light and obviously amused by the exchange. He and the dog looked at her. Both smiled at her beautiful voice and grin.

“I can’t believe I lost to a dog,” Anders grumbled, eliciting a more resounding laugh from Hawke.

Anders could have sworn that the damn dog chuckled too.


	11. Chapter 11

Fenris paced back and forth in the vestibule of his stolen mansion. He had nothing left to do to keep his thoughts at bay. He had exhausted all the training he could do on his own and couldn’t bother Aveline since he knew she’d be on duty right now. His thoughts came back to Verose. Fenris wanted her to randomly show up, thus why he was in the vestibule, hoping against hope for a knock on his door.

“Kaffas!” He swore loudly and stopped in front of the door.

He put his hands on his face and tilted his head back while dragging them down to land on his neck. He left his hands there while he stared at the ceiling for a minute or so. Fenris sighed as he let his arms fall to his side, and the sound echoed throughout the small room. He sat down where he had been standing, disturbing the dust on the floor. He watched it float around him through the rays of light coming in from the windows. He blew out a sweeping breath sending dust from the floor and air alike sailing away. Fenris sighed again as the dust settled down around him.

It had only been two days since they left her at The Hanged Man to recover. Fenris knew that he should check on her progress. It’s what he wanted to do. He was fighting a losing battle against his desires. Being around her, talking or arguing with her, and fighting alongside her made him feel… normal? He didn’t know if that was the right word. Maybe simply content? He knew that he didn’t like the feeling attached directly to Hawke, especially when he saw her expression toward Varric that day. Verose looked at the dwarf with so much pride and affection. A pain had shot through his chest that had nothing to do with magic, his markings, or a physical injury. And it ached.

His brows knit together, and he shut his eyes as the ache resurfaced. Fenris knew that if he went to the Hanged Man to see her, he’d most likely have to see them together. He could almost tolerate the ache, but the jolt through his heart was too much. Fenris was no fool. He knew this emotion. It was jealousy, and he had no right to feel it. Fenris and Hawke were nothing more than comrades as far as he was aware of. Could he even consider them friends? She looked at, treated him, and flirted with him the same way she did with everyone: the same way for everyone except Varric. Her facial expressions revealed a difference when she looked at him.

Fenris screwed up his face more as the ache grew a little more painful. He jumped up from where he was sitting and headed toward the door. He twisted the handle and swung it open, slamming it behind him as he stepped out.

* * *

“And then Hawke threw a dagger right into his dangly bits!”

Varric’s ending to his newest tall tale got a cacophony of wows and laughter from the group gathered around his table. He noticed Fenris behind the crowd at the same time the elf spotted him. His grin didn’t change as he saw Fenris begin walking towards the table. He was used to the elf’s brooding expression, and Varric didn’t change his mood to combat it anymore.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, if you’d like to hear more, then you’ll have to come back later. My appointment has arrived.” He waved to Fenris.

The listeners turned to see who Varric referred to and sprung from their seats when they saw Fenris.

_Wow, I’ll have to remember this for when I need an empty table._

Fenris took a chair closest to him and scanned the tavern.

“V is sleeping.” He told him as the elf’s eyes landed back on him. Varric knew that would be the first question. “You missed Blondie.”

“What was the abomination here for?”

Varric sighed at the look of disgust on Fenris’s face. “You know he’s a damn good healer. He was here to check on Hawke, too. He helped her get back to sleep. Tough to sleep when one leg is burning or itching constantly.”

“Is she alright?” Varric saw his black eyebrows raise slightly and his lips uncurl.

_A very bland way of looking concerned, but it’s better than the scowl._

Varric leaned on his elbows on the table. “She’s sleeping again as far as I know. As I said, Anders is excellent with healing magic. And he cares for Verose as well.”

_Aaaand the scowl is back._

“How much do you care for her?”

Varric raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to one side. It had been some time since someone surprised him. He didn’t expect that this was going to be a necessary conversation with him. Varric knew that Fenris and Blondie would eventually come to blows over who cared more for her or deserved her. They are idiots when it comes to their emotions, after all. Varric mostly handled his, in his opinion. How much did he care for Verose Hawke?

“You’re going to have to explain that question to me, elf.”

Fenris glowered at him as he rephrased the question, “Are you in love with Ver?”

Varric snorted once or twice before moving into proper gales of laughter. “You think,” cut himself off with more laughing, “Me and Hawke?” Varric huffed several more guffaws before he finally moved down to the occasional giggle, eventually stopping to catch his breath.

Fenris waited for Varric to wipe the tears from his eyes. “Are you going to answer?”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Varric leaned forward on his elbows again. “I love her, yes. But I love her like family, and I’m family to her. Remember that both of V’s siblings are gone, her Uncle isn’t the best person, and things aren’t cozy between her and her mother. And my brother betrayed us both.” Varric watched the faintest shame replace his scowl. “I’m not the one you need to worry about on a romantic front. But you know who is.”

Fenris’s right eyebrow raised. “The mage.”

Varric tilted his head up and down in confirmation.

“Well, what do we have here?”

Varric twisted in his seat to find Hawke at the last few steps, leaning on her crutch and smiling at the pair.

“What are we doing today, gentleman?”


End file.
